Hope Deferred Makes the Heart Sick
by i-am-big-foot
Summary: Kurt and Blaine are alone, with thousands of people who walk and no longer live, thousands that are searching for living flesh to eat. Walking Dead, Glee drabble. Klaine angst. T for, well, zombie-like behaviour.


**meh. because my obsession for Glee and The Walking Dead is finally paying off, a short zombie apocalypse!klaine, anyone?**

**I do not own the characters. They belong to Fox, Glee and Ryan Murphy.**

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><p>"They make death look so <em>sad<em>." he whispered.

Then Blaine couldn't take it anymore and he reached out and kissed him on the lips, bitter and full of anger and tearful and- and it was frustrating, really, what they had become, a broken boy and his machine. Blaine, _oh so numb_, that feared absolutely nothing, because they had everything to fear for, and had to shut Kurt up with parted lips, gripping his arms strong enough to leave yet another bruise in his pale arms.

He was sure it wasn't long ago, when the last bit of hope had left from Kurt's young eyes, maybe it was a week ago. And their love now was dull and shredded but remained, mostly for the need of the pair. They_ needed_ that little spark of safety that threatened to slip from their fingers, that feeling of hearing the beat of each other's hearts, slow and far too fast, because they shouldn't be beating at all.

Maybe it was a week ago when Kurt had just stopped.

Was it the moment when they found Rachel, streaked with her own blood in the arms of the boy she was going to marry? Was it when Finn lifted his lifeless eyes to them and licked his scarlet stained lips, or when the crossbow shot, and he fell to the ground? Blaine actually believed it was when the door shook violently, beaten with a force that could only be human (or what most humans had become). And when Kurt saw his father, he just collapsed, as the arms that had held him so many times now pounded desperately trying to open the barricaded door, fingers and bones breaking in the process, a hungry moan leaving Burt's sickly familiar mouth in search of flesh and blood.

Kurt stopped looking or asking for food or water, and Blaine had to feed him so he would still survive. He didn't kill another one of the bitten (because calling them zombies made it sound ridiculous, like it wasn't real, like it wasn't happening) and he stopped with the long talks they used to have every night because they could never, ever sleep, where they talked about what it used to be, and solos and dead birds and they sometimes softly chuckled into each other's necks before they noticed how pathetic it all seemed to be now. Now, in the dark, Kurt was tugging at his shirt looking for something to _hold on to_, and he sobbed until he couldn't breathe and he cried until, exhausted, he passed out from lack of sleep. Blaine kissed his forehead and his burning eyes and his nose, and just watched him sleeping until the grayish light started making it's way through the tent's thin walls. Kurt woke up with swollen eyes, the fire and life long gone, and together they crawled through another torturous day, literally never knowing if they'd actually make it through, if one of them would be left alone. And it had been a week ago, if Blaine was right, since this had become a routine.

Blaine stopped caring what he shot with his crossbow, sometimes an animal, sometimes a person, but never someone who was alive, who wasn't out to eat the, who could actually scream or talk or think or love. Kurt became his world when the world fell apart. Now it just felt like there was nothing left of the once beautiful boy, now marred with scars and pain. Nothing left to protect. Sometimes Kurt would mumble names Blaine sometimes recognized. A relative who lived in Kansas he once mentioned over dinner, a two-year old boy Kurt had taken to the police when he found him lost on the streets, one of the Warblers, a McKinley teacher, and more than once he mentioned the Glee club members, his parents, and Blaine, Blaine, Blaine. _Don't let me go, Blaine. Please don't ever leave, don't ever leave me here, don't leave me to die. Don't leave me to die alone, don't let me go, Blaine, don't ever let me go. _

What could he do besides listening?

It had never been his intention to let go, never since that day in the empty classroom where they first kissed, and he didn't plan on leaving just when they needed each other to survive among the reigning, towering death. _Never, I'll never let you go._

But Kurt didn't smell like home to him anymore. He smelled of sweat, and blood and dirt, and yet he made the sun brighter and the cold colder and he made everything worth trying. Blaine was still trying for Kurt, but not today, today he wanted to be selfish and feel like they deserved to finally give up.

"Yeah, they do." he said, his voice always, always cracking, and continued kissing his beautiful broken boy, not even stopping to breathe.

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><p><strong>I really needed to get that off my chest. Review! Save a life! Win a puppy!<strong>


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